Just like old times
by pay-your-hecking-taxes
Summary: (McBladley request on tumblr by spoopymormon-helldream) Connor McKinley has returned from his mission and must readjust to the life he's had before, but this time, he's only pretending to turn it off. He encounters and old friend, and the root of his 'problem', Steve Blade. Old Steve has a message for Connor, one that he can relate to quite well. (Steve x Connor)


-just like old times-

AN/: A tumblr prompt for spoopymormon-helldream who requested McBladley. Half of which was written on a phone before it started hurting my eyes.

Just over a year since he and the rest of his district fell from the church's grace in Uganda, Connor Mckinley found himself walking the streets he'd always known as a child. It was almost jarring, not only in the cultures he'd grown to expect but in the way everything felt as well. He may as well as still be overseas. It was amazing how two years could change what he'd considered normal anymore. He certainly wasn't the same person as he'd been. That man, no, boy, he really hadn't known nearly as much, hadn't been nearly as prepared as he should have. It was almost pitiful how Connor thought he could 'fake it till he made it' and be something, someone he was not. Could not and would never had been. He wasn't sure if he was longed to be him again or if was glad to be rid of him.

After a tearful and heartfelt goodbye, he and Poptarts were all alone. It felt almost foreign to be on your own again after two years with a family you made from strangers from all walks of life. It almost felt wrong, as If they were betraying those boys who looked to him for guidance. They had done what was expected of them and that was that. Still Connor could not help but worry, wonder what the months ahead without his presence held for them. Had he trained his successor well enough? Would they listen?

Stripped of his authority and importance almost as fast as it had been assigned to him was jarring. He'd expected it and still left so disoriented.

He could not pretend that he worried for some Elders more than others. Had it been hurt and abandonment that he'd seen in Church's eyes? Longing, reluctance from Price?

Maybe if - when they'd see each other again he'd get those answers.

The warmth and safety of the mission hut had been replaced with uncertainty about their future when they returned home. Their families may not have expected their sons to be wildly successful in Africa, but even this was not on the list of low expectations they may have had.

As expected they were hailed in a mixed flurry of gratitude to see their children alive and well - especially the Thomas' who were still reeling from the loss of their daughter shortly before their sons' mission in a strange land - and confused disappointment over the news of their entire district being shut down.

Mathias' family had been slightly less upset, greatly relieved that they would not bury another child before his time. Connor was not quite as lucky however. He had the most responsibility and thus took the most blame. This was something he'd been expecting from the moment the mission president had given them the official news.

But alas Connor was spared his greatest fear- being thrown out onto the streets with nothing but the clothes on his back. Perhaps it was because he'd inadvertently pushed the blame onto poor Elders Cunningham and Price in his attempt to set the record straight. It almost hurt to take this unintentional scapegoat. Connor didn't have the nerve to do otherwise, he still hadn't told them about his little problem, one he'd grown to accept. Yet another thing he'd been wanting to come clean about. His want to do the right thing was hampered by his returning fear, the looks that were plain as day on his family's faces.

As the snow fell, dusting the roads and his own red hair. He let out a sigh, watching the rising column of steam from his mouth and into the chilly air before it mixed and became one with the overcast sky. Feeling lost, and possibly being physically lost, Connor sat down on a bench. Idly he watched the street as people bustled about in their own lives in cars and busses and by foot as well. He was both watching and yet not actually watching, so he did not notice a dark haired man coming his way.

"Connor? Is that you?" Asked the man, studying him.

Roused out of his thoughts he looked up to see a seemingly familiar set of eyes, a face that he'd seen in his hell dreams more than once. It was the face that made him discover love and all the woes that came with it.

It was Steve Blade.

Connor felt his mouth go dry and his throat close up.

"Steve?" Came the weak questioning reply.

Steve's face broke out in a big grin as he sat down next to the man whose life he'd unknowingly affected in so many ways.

"Connor, I can't believe it's really you. I always wondered what became of you."

Connor returned the gesture, despite the unnerving feeling in his stomach. A warring storm of clashing emotions

Happiness. Fear. Regret. Resentment? Had it not been for him, could he still have blissfully lived that lie of his?

No.

He knew that. If not Steve, then almost certainly, it would have been Kevin who would have brutally opened Connor's eyes to his most hidden, most damning secret. His cursed flaw and personal reservation to hell.

For a moment Connor froze, unable to speak. Before Steve could question anything, voice his concern, if any, the former district leader broke out into a big smile.

"Well, I can say the same thing about you, Steve. It's certainly been years since we've talked. How are you?" He talked animatedly, turning to face him more directly.

Steve looked more or less the same as Connor last saw him, back in sixth grade. The Blades had moved after that. Steve said it was for his dad's job but Connor couldn't help but suspect that maybe his parents had gotten wind of his feelings for their son. They had to do what was best, for their son, for them. Connor had accepted it like a bitter pill, the first of many in his life following their departure from the area and his life.

Steve leaned back, gazing up at the overcast sky, the sun was nowhere in sight. Yet it was still bright out, not enough for one to wear sunglasses, however. The sky was an impenetrable block of gray clouds, nearly seamless as if there were no cloud at all. Instead it was as if someone had simply painted the sky gray.

Steve suddenly broke away from gazing at the sky, looking back to Connor, straight in the eyes.

"I've been fine, went to college and taking some time off. What about you? Are you, uh, still-" Steve let the conversation hang, unfinished. Whether he couldn't finish it or wouldn't was something else all together.

Connor adjusted his coat, before answering.

"I'm still with the Church, I just came back from my Mission actually." He chirped, making pleasant conversation. He, of course, did not forget, could not forget the lingering /other/ question that was there. The one he didn't want to answer, the one he was hoping Steve wouldn't ask.

Steve looked surprised.

"What do you guys do on those things anyway? I mean...other than ringing doorbells." Steve hadn't been Mormon when the two were growing up and that hadn't changed since they last met. Connor didn't mind but at the same time maybe he did.

"Well, for starters, we certainly do do more than just ring doorbells." Connor answered enthusiastically, that chipper, cheerful voice that he'd used when trying to convince someone of something. Sometimes that someone was him.

"When we were in Uganda, we helped the villagers with wells and helped build a few basic buildings for them. Repaired stuff, you know." There was a proud twinkle in his eyes.

"Uganda?" Steve repeated. He hadn't expected them to go that far away. "How was it? Were you okay?" Steve lowered his gaze, a worried expression took over. He was deep in thought about something or other.

'Turn it off' popped into Connor's mind almost reflexively. After a little over a decade of that mantra he didn't even notice it when it came up. It was just a part of him, something he'd only again started to recognize was there. It had taken a year and a half to start to undo it's effects and Connor was glad of it. Or so he hoped, in reality, Connor wasn't sure if he was ready to give it up. It had hurt him, yes but it had also protected him, shielded him from what would have destroyed him. He was sure of it, he'd grown too used to having it, no matter how damaging to give it up cold turkey.

"Oh, it was hot." He reassured Steve, who hadn't entirely given up that look. It was both comforting and unnerving.

"But that wasn't enough to stop us from spreading the word of Heavenly Father." Connor beamed, leaving out all the other unsavory details. Like how the majority of his Mission was unsuccessful and underwhelming, how they only succeeded because one of them lied happily. It worked but it wasn't...exactly a story Connor would want to tell outright. Not without, ironically lying about it. Arguably, that was worse.

"But where you safe?" Steve pressed. Connor hesitated, staring at the other man.

"Well, it wasn't at first but we came back unharmed didn't we?" He chirped, ignoring Steve's looks.

"I'm happy you're safe Connor. I'm not sure what I would do if...well if I never got to see you again."

The redhead stayed silent for a few minutes, unsure how to respond. Surely, he meant it in a purely platonic way. Still though, there was the muted longing for something more than that. Something that had never gone away despite how many times he'd 'turn it off', how long it'd been since he'd first felt it.

Love.

A desire to love, to be loved. To be more than just friends, maybe even more than family itself. A need to care and be cared for, to dedicate himself to. Even after all these years, Connor still felt something for Steve Blade. Just like he'd felt the same for Kevin Price. If Connor hadn't already broken down and accepted the inevitable he did now. But with that revelation came fear and uncertainty.

Doubt, fear of rejection. A fear of being alone, a not so subtle knowledge that no one wanted you. That you didn't matter to anyone. Feelings and thoughts he was familiar with and had been for over a decade.

"I was worried that it was too late." Steve said at last, leaning forward. He ran his fingers through his hair, making it messy.

"Too late for what?" Connor asked, stumped as to what he could be talking about. If he was talking about things that happened in the past, then there were many things he could mean. 'Goodbye' popped into his head, but goodbye for what? Moving away? Plausible but still-

"There's something, well, actually a few somethings, that I've been meaning to tell you. I just never got the chance. We were too young and then I moved and we lost contact. I-" Steve was obviously distressed, worried. Connor raised an eyebrow before reaching out to him.

He stopped short of actually holding his hand, or touching his shoulder.

'They were in public' was the official reasoning but he knew better. He was still unsure, unconfident.

"Do you remember, that one time towards the end of fifth grade? You said you wanted to tell me something."

Connor was shocked that he'd remembered that confession of his. Caught somewhere between fear, gratitude and flattery, he could only nod quietly.

"Admittedly, I thought it was weird, you was weird. I-It just didn't make any sense. We were friends then, I couldn't understand.

But then I just couldn't get it out of my head, playing it over and over again. It was driving me crazy, Connor, do you have any idea how long I spent trying not to think about it? It was like a siren's song in my head."

The man hesitated, gazing at Steve. He'd been going through the same cycle of ignoring something that just wouldn't leave.

"I do. I really do, Steve." Connor answered quietly.

"Eventually it stopped, but I still couldn't get you out of my head. Maybe not ten year old you, but the point still stands. I don't know, maybe I just needed answers. But I don't even know the questions I'd ask, or what answers I'm expecting to get."

Steve pulled his coat closer to him, shivering as the wind blew past. Snow danced across the sidewalk, over their legs and feet. The streets were emptier now, a few cars driving past and the rare person walking around on the sidewalks. The two were utterly alone for the most part, yet Connor never felt closer to someone who truly understood the same maelstrom of emotions and thoughts.

His mind drifted to Kevin and felt guilty, Kevin had been open and understanding even if he didn't share the experience but eager to listen. His big bright smile, that over confidence that both drove him and the rest of the Mission hut crazy from time to time lingered in his mind. While the others didn't find it as endearing how excited Kevin could get over certain things, Connor loved how much he loved those stupid things. Feeling his heart flutter at the thought of the man, he looked back at Steve. Both of them lost and confused, not knowing what to expect or where to go and just, well drifting until something happened.

"It's okay Steve. I don't have the answers either, but I understand."

"And I want to understand better, I want to understand with you. At least that way, we both get out answers.

I've never been with a man, or with anyone really. But I'm willing to try." Steve was more determined, more confident now. Perhaps it was because he had Connor now, and that Connor knew as much as he did. The fear of navigating through this unknown part of their lives, of their person, it was better now that they would have each other.

"I am too." Connor felt a smile on face he wasn't aware of until now. Would he regret it? Maybe. When? He didn't know, but it was time to live in the present and that he would.

"Would you like to go in for a cup of hot chocolate? You know, like old times?"


End file.
